


What's in a kiss?

by Satine86



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fluff, Silver Millennium Era, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: No matter how much he thought about it, or dreamt of it, or wished for it. He knew he would never be able to kiss her.





	What's in a kiss?

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this a couple months ago and decided to post it here for posterity. Based on a tumblr prompt: "Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

It was funny how these things worked. 

Because it seemed no matter how hard he tried or hoped or wished, he and the Lady Mars would always end up in a room together. Just the two of them. Then inevitably he would say or do something she seemed hell bent on misconstruing, which then would lead to a sniping comment from her, and a sarcastic quip from him, and before either of them knew what was happening they were arguing. 

Then she would eventually flounce off in a huff, either having won their inconsequential fight, or to simply ensure she had the last word in order to declare herself the winner. It didn’t really matter which it was since no matter what the outcome was, he always came out feeling like a loser. 

Oh, sure, he enjoyed the verbal sparring. She was intelligent with a quick wit and a biting tongue, and he could really only appreciate that fact. Although he would appreciate it more were it not always directed at him. 

The real problem, which he had known from the start, was that he didn’t really want to fight with her. Challenging her was always interesting, but if he had to leave that behind he would do so in an instant. What he really wanted to do was something he never could. No matter how much he thought about it, or dreamt of it, or wished for it. He knew he would never be able to kiss her. 

“What?” The word came out as a hiss and Lord Jadeite froze, stared down into startled violet eyes. 

“Did I say that out loud?” 

“You did.”

Panic rose up and gripped his throat, nearly strangling him. His eyes darted around the room, casting about for something – anything – that might save him from this predicament. Unfortunately he found nothing that would save him. 

“I.. uh…” He was trying to make his brain work, he could play it off perhaps? A joke. Though that seemed cruel. A misunderstanding? He so lost in thought he was wholly unprepared for what she said next. Not that he ever would have ever been prepared. 

“Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

He let his wide eyed gaze snap up to hers. He blinked, then swallowed. “Is that an option?” 

“No!” she said quickly. Then she paused and looked bashfully at her feet. It was so uncharacteristic he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it at first. “Maybe?” her voice lilted, creepy upward toward the end of the word. “Do you really want to?” 

Wetting his lips absently, he eyed her askance. “Is there an answer to this that ensures I keep all my limbs attached to my person?” 

“I am not going to maim you.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “I just want an answer. The truth. Now.” 

“Yes,” was his swift reply.

She took a step forward, partially a challenge, partially an invitation. He mirrored her, coming close enough to feel the warmth that naturally radiated off of her. She tilted her head back to look him in the eye, it did nothing to diminish her proud stance as she arched a slim raven brow at him. 

“Well?” she said, again a challenge as well as an invitation. 

“If I do kiss you, do you promise not to incinerate me where I stand?” 

“Depends,” she said, a teasing - and enchanting, beguiling, charming – smile graced her beautiful face. He had never seen it before, and he decided he liked it very much. 

“On what exactly?” 

“On whether it’s a good kiss or not.” 

He laughed, a short, nervous bark. “No pressure then, perfect,” he said with a grin. 

She probably had a retort ready, something clever and witting and biting. Her lips were parted slightly with the start of it, drawn into a cupid-bow pout. Instead of letting her say whatever it was, he bent his head and kissed her. 

When they broke apart she didn’t immediately set aflame. So he thought it must have been a good kiss. When she rocked up onto her toes to press her lips to his again, he knew it wasn’t a good kiss. It was a great kiss.


End file.
